


How To Get Along With Your Human

by Ultra_Swagnus (SerendipitousSong)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/M, Female Character of Color, Friends to Lovers, How to guide, LGBTQ Character of Color, One Shot, Starscream Centric, but not really, she's a wreck but at least she's posted, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 02:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/Ultra_Swagnus
Summary: Starscream is new here. So is this human. Neither of them have any friends so they might as well start here, with each other.





	How To Get Along With Your Human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SolainRhyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolainRhyo/gifts), [GeminiWishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiWishes/gifts), [SS_Shitstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS_Shitstorm/gifts), [saveatruckrideoptimusprime](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=saveatruckrideoptimusprime).

**1\. Good First Impression**

There were many things about planet Earth that snatched Starscream’s attention, and he discovered more every day. The Internet, music, politics, and even humans themselves. Humans, however, continued to amaze him.

Take, for example, the young(?) woman being examined by June Darby in a makeshift medbay.

Now, Starscream had lived a very long time. He’d seen many alien life forms in all colors, shapes, sizes, and packages (to use human terminology) yet he was being quite distracted by Kris’s legs. Her _ very _ long, dark-skinned legs.

They were quite… thick, as well. Very muscular. Toned, again using human terms. Her arms were too but Starscream could not stop glancing at her thighs as she swung her feet back forth under the gurney.

Damn… they were some lovely legs.

Starscream didn’t realize he’d been caught staring until Kris threw a can of carbonated drink at his optic. Her aim was perfect.

“So, are they all gonna stare me the fuck down like that?”

June sighed and shot him a glare that he deemed decidedly too harsh given the situation. “No, but Starscream has not had nearly as much time around humans as the rest, so having his own to look after…”

“Oh.” Kris glanced up at him with eyes only a few shades darker in hue than her legs. “So we’re both new at this.”

June remained silent, placing the last adhesive bandage over a cut on her forehelm.

Meanwhile, Starscream rubbed at his sore optic. “I am simply fascinated that such a tiny creature could evolve legs that long.” The mech went so far as to prod her calf with a filed down claw. “What is their purpose?”

Kris looked very, very confused. “Uhm… walking?”

“Yes, yes, but why so long and muscular? A Cybertronian with such a physique would be a valuable soldier, able to run long distances and kick enemies across a battlefield. You, however, are no soldier.”

His new companion's face went an alarming shade of scarlet under her deep complexion. Startled (and perhaps a bit worried for his charge’s wellbeing) Starscream began questioning June.

“Why is she doing that? What is happening?” To Kris he asked simply, “Was it something I said?”

And, though she was obviously embarrassed, Kris began to laugh.

“You’re so _ weird! _ They’re fucking legs, man, I don’t know why the fuck I’m so damn long! Why the hell’re you so pointy, huh?”

As she spoke, her legs stretched out in front of her. Starscream now noticed her large pedes as well. Not exactly a _ dainty _ femme, but a sturdy one instead.

June pat her patient’s shoulder, then packed up her medical supplies. “After such an eventful evening, I’m sure you’re ready for some rest,” Starscream tried not to glance one more time at Kris’ thick ankles while the nurse was looking at him ever so pointedly, “and then we can introduce you to everyone else. The kids are all asleep.”

Kris smiled kindly. “Seems like it’s been an exhausting couple of days?”

The seeker muttered, “An exhausting _ week _, rather.” He shared a tired grin with his sleepy companion.

Companion.

Perhaps defection would not be so bad after all.

**2\. Get to Know Each Other**

Their first week was spent confined to their sad excuse of a base. Ever since the Outpost had been destroyed (housed inside some sort of military silo, which in turn was housed within a small mountain) and Jasper razed to the ground, the Autobots had taken to a simple warehouse. What little privacy they had been afforded in the original base was downsized; everybot in everybot’s business. And with his former team still scouring the hillsides for them, Prime had advised they remain close.

For the newly appointed aerial recon/scientist/engineer and his tiny friend, “close” meant “don’t leave.”

So they sat in one corner of the warehouse, Starscream on a damaged cube, Krystalle on a raised dais, and talked. Today, they were talking about Krystalle’s name.

“So then, after all that bullshit with the nurses, the doc comes in asking ‘_ who the fuck thought pouring apple juice in the pee cup was a good idea!?’ _ The janitor decided to see himself outta there, took the juice! So Mom goes, ‘hey, you know what’d be a nice name? Krystopher! Spelled like _ this _,’” she laughed, swinging her feet once more. “According to Dad, he was just happy I made it through all that. Just smiled and nodded.” She paused for a moment, thinking. "I changed it to Krystalle though. Once I was older, and knew more about who I am. I'm still Kris, just my true-self Kris."

“It’s an interesting choice, considering you look nothing at all like a crystal.”

“Well, my mother is obsessed with _ unique spellings _,” he liked when she lowered her voice and made that gesture with her fingers, “and even though my dad really wanted to name me anything but that, he just kind of let my mom do the honors. I guess.’”

Hearing her sire’s reaction piqued his interest further. “What would your sire have named you had he been given the choice?”

Kris hummed, thinking. “Ya know, I actually don’t know for sure. Dad never really complained about it or anything. In fact, he always said my name was perfect -- I didn't even know he hated it until he told me the story himself! The relief when I changed it was unreal."

“Hmm… well they sound like they were good parents."

His human snorted, an inelegant sound that he enjoyed immensely. “Good. What a word… they just tried their best. They weren’t perfect, but I’d give a few years off my life just so I could’ve had a few more with them.” She considered him for a few moments, expression thoughtful. “And you? Who is Starscream and where the hell did he come from?”

Starscream groaned dramatically. “Oh, it is a _ long _ story, one that begins a few million years ago…” He leaned back, getting comfortable against the wall before continuing. “Well, you see, my sire was a Vosian prince…”

**3\. Take Her Flying**

Having her legs inside his cockpit was something Starscream really needed to get over. Given Kris’s frankly gargantuan height compared to almost every other human (even Agent Fowler, who was shorter by the width of a single human digit) those long long legs were a bit cramped within his cabin. Squeezed into a borrowed helmet, she had hopped in thinking everything would be alright.

Things were not alright.

“Hey Starbucks, is there anyway we can, I don’t know, _ expand? _ My legs are about to fuckin’ collapse in on themselves.”

Starscream felt mildly annoyed at his companion’s griping. “I’m afraid not. Oh, what is that Earth phrase you love to use? _ Get what you get? _”

Her huff blew across his interior. “Whatever.”

Once he was given the clear by Ratchet (Starscream still chuckled at Krystalle’s reaction to first hearing the medic’s designation: “Ratchet!? _ Ratchet!? _ Ya momma name your sister Screwdriver?”) the duo took to the skies. It was a simple mission, no dangerous encounters with the Decepticons predicted. Starscream was to provide “an eye in the skies” while Arcee, Cliffjumper, and Jack scouted from below.

All three Autobots had been amiable to such an arrangement given their humans were close. _ Too close _, thought Starscream, but he kept his processes to himself.

But from this high in the atmosphere, it was just him and the subject of his worryingly strong affection.

Speaking of which, Kris had been silent, craning her neck this way and that so as to absorb every sight around her. Clouds, stars, migrating avians, and the truly stunning colors courtesy of her planet’s gaseous cocoon.

Perhaps Starscream had gone a bit higher than necessary. Perhaps he had halted his climb at _ just _ the right spot to dazzle his friend with brilliant hues. Perhaps he was trying to focus on his job while simultaneously focusing on how brown irises could change color in the sunlight, soft velvet turning to molten bronze with every flash through the glass. Perhaps now he’d found a new distraction, no longer as interested in the unique shape of her because _ Primus _…

...even with much of her fleshy faceplate masked, Starscream recognized the awestruck smile in her cheeks.

“This is incredible, Star.”

_ So are you. _

**4\. Defend Each Other**

He came back beaten to scrap. Thankfully, Kris was still asleep when he landed. He didn’t want her to see him this way.

“Hurry up, Bulkhead! We need to stabilize him!” The Autobot medic’s vocals grated on his damaged audials. He saw nothing, felt nothing, and moved not at all. To his fellow teammates, who knew Starscream to be a terribly fussy patient, watching his limp frame in Bulkhead’s arms painted a grim picture. So did all the energon flowing out of his chest.

“Gently, Bulkhead… good. Alright, I need an extra pair of servos with some fuel-line clamps over his spark chamber. That’s right, Arcee, right there-- _ Carefully! _ Perfect. Now Bumblebee, go find three medical grade cubes of synth-en, make it fast! Scrap, his sparkrate is dropping--”

“Ratchet, there’s too much energon! I-I can’t see the last fuel-line--”

“Frag it all to the Pit--”

“_ Bleep! _”

“Plug him into the first drip and open the line as wide as you can! Go, Bee--”

“Okay, I clamped the last line! He needs--”

“--needs to be operated on immediately, hand me the 15c and--”

“_ Bleepbleep bloop blip bop-- _”

“--what do you mean you can’t locate the--”

“Where is the fragging defibril--”

Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee--

“Is he fucking flatlining!?”

Only Ratchet refrained from pausing, having located the missing defibrillator and prepared to send thousands of volts into Starscream’s chest. The rest, even Arcee, elbows deep in his chassis, turned to stare blankly at Kris. Silence reigned.

The human stood hunched over, wrapped in a bubblegum pink robe. Her eyes were wide, horrified, unable to look away from the glowing, gorey mess laying on the table.

“Is he _ fucking flatlining _ on that goddamn table!?”

“Kris--”

“Arcee, clear!”

“_ What happened!? _”

“Krystalle--”

She wailed, “Starscream!” and rushed up some steps to the dais where she did most of her work. Raised to his level, a mere hundred feet away, she could see every single scrape and wound, every patch of torn plating, and each crevice leaking the seeker’s lifeblood.

“Up the charge, ‘Cee. And, clear!”

Deedee, deedee, deedee, deedee, deedee…

And on it went. Starscream's sparkpulse blipped along on the monitor without ceasing. He was revived. Krystalle stood frozen upon the platform, shaking, unable to quit staring at her companion. Her friend.

There were many things on planet Earth that mattered to her. Twitter, her new undercover job (as a glorified secretary to Agent Fowler, meh) and that totally sketchy taqueria down the street (best. tacos. _ ever _.)

But Starscream mattered more.

She willed him to know it, to _ feel _ it. To imagine it inside his battered mind. _ Don't go down without a fight! Not this time, Starscream! Please! _

“Please. Tell me what happened. Tell me which ‘Con is dying next time they show their face.”

Ratchet just _ tch _’d from his position welding Star’s chest back together. Arcee, Magnus, Bulkhead, and Cliffjumper remained mute, while Wheeljack looked away. Only Optimus and Smokescreen could look her in the eye. And even then, only Smokescreen answered.

“We were investigating that signal -- you know, the one that keeps popping up on the…the…. so we bridge out and what do you know? It’s the Decepticons!”

“We engaged from the ground, but I ordered Starscream to remain behind our lines until called upon for air support,” interjected Optimus. “From there, we fought a heated battle--”

“And if that seeker weren’t so damn soft-helmed, he’d have stayed behind us instead of throwing himself into enemy fire!”

“Arcee,” muttered Cliff.

“His temper is short, it is true, but put yourself in Starscream's position, Arcee.”

“_ What _ position?” Kris buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed. She was still standing right next to Starscream’s limp frame. “Y’all still haven’t answered my question! _ What. Happened _.”

Cliffjumper had mercy on the frustrated human. “Megatron taunted him. He threw some pretty nasty insults about… well, about you.” At Kris's blank look, he elaborated. “You don’t wanna know kid, you don’t wanna know.”

The Prime kneeled until his faceplates were level with hers. “Krystalle, do you realize how much you truly mean to Starscream?”

Kris blinked. “We’re buds. Besties.”

Optimus stared at her for a long moment, then drew himself to his feet with a long-suffering groan.

“He’ll live, right?”

Ratchat’s ex-vent was her only reply.

**5\. Start a Family**

Why do these things always happen to him?

Newly recovered from one near deactivation (and barely cleared for a simple scouting mission by the metal of his denta) Starscream discovered the location of an abandoned ship. _ Another _ abandoned ship, he should say. And while he trusted his fellow Autobots had provided him with the necessary information the first time around, the scientist in him could not resist returning in secret. Especially in the case of a _ plague ship _.

Milennia had gone by without so much as a thought about Cybonic Plague and here she is, eating through the plating of several dozen mechs. His own servos had crafted the plague as a weapon against Autobots. He was the mastermind behind cyberkind's greatest calamity (other than, of course, the war that destroyed their ancestral home) and, therefore, been the executioner of thousands -- if not millions -- of Cybertronians.

All dead. Deceased by his servos.

He ignored his processor's new choice of words to describe deactivation and proceeded to investigate the plague ship.

Infected energon drizzled onto the corpses from bodies strung along the ceiling, terminals sparked, and warnings flashed across cracked screens. Any form of lighting had long been disabled or knocked out, causing shadows to dance along walls and greyed faceplates. Limbs lay cold and stiff or reached up toward him, still as the spark casing in each rusty chassis.

“This place is spooky as fuck, Star.”

Starscream swore he'd deny ever having jumped as high as he did in fright all the way to his rusting grave. After the initial shock, he whirled around to scold his companion.

“Must you always disregard _ everything _ I request of you!?”

Kris only smiled, her tiny body encased in the Apex Armor. How she had managed to sneak that past both the medic _ and _ the Prime, _ and _ make it through the bridge after him remained a mystery.

“It was more of a demand. I'm not fond of being ordered around by robo-twinks in high heels, you know!”

_ Damn. She was batting her lashes in that way she does. Look away, you fool, don't make eye contact… damn it. _

“Come along, then. If you insist on being disobedient, we might as well go all the way.” Starscream found himself sweeping his arm across the room for her. “Shall we?”

That giggle nearly stopped his spark.

Silence reigned as he meandered throughout the ship, oh so careful to avoid contact with decayed frames and hot energon and distinctly glad he hadn't made the agent airborne. A racket from a hab chamber signalled him to the whereabouts of his partner.

_ Partner. _

Primus, was he in deep.

“Hey Starbucks! C'mere real quick!” There was more clanging and shuffling before a helmet poked around the doorframe. “Hurry! Before I drop it!”

“Drop what!?” Alarmed, he stumbled through the control room without touching anything and barely made his way to Kris’s location in time to catch the object of her fancy. The object that was _ not _ an object, but a tiny frame, small enough for Kris to hold while in the Apex Armor. Both her arms had been wrapped around it similarly to how she picked up the young boy, Raf; scooped under the arms with her spine arched backwards. It seemed she had no idea what she held, and Starscream's mounting anxiety was quickly growing into a full blown panic attack as he inspected the frame.

An infant. A cyberorganic infant, kept in a cryotube far from the afflicted passengers. Most likely a carrier of the Cybonic Plague though it showed no outward signs of infec--

“--n we keep it?”

All processing stuttered to a halt. Had he heard correctly? Or perhaps his audials were in need of recalibration? Had Kris truly just asked him what he feared she had asked him?

“I-- I beg your pardon!?”

“Oh come _ on _, Star! It's a baby Autobot--”

_ “Cybertronian--” _

“--and he doesn't look all nasty and infected. Like, maybe he's clean?”

The odds of the infant being a carrier of such a vicious disease were too high to ever consider bringing it back to base. He said as much but of course, Kris remained steadfast.

“Please? Can't we, like, scan him? Like an x-ray to see if he's got the Plague? Or draw some energon and analyze it?”

“I'm leaving.”

“_ Wait! _”

Starscream should have _ known _ his partner would win him over. It happens every. Single. Time. Looking back, if he had ever suspected Kris to be such an observant creature, he hasn't acknowledged the fact. And yet here she was.

“If he were infected, wouldn't _ you _ be infected and like, dying right now too?”

And the dreadful bit was, she had a point. Starscream had engineered the virus himself. It was a fast working agent, and a telltale sign of infection was burning or smoking metal at the area of contact. As neither of his servos were currently burning despite having the tiny frame cupped between them, well…

The duo returned to a very angry Prime and an enraged medic. But they added one more spark to the Autobots that day.

(Starscream pointedly ignored Krystalle's squealy comments of, “I've always wanted to be a mother,” and focused on studying Ratchet's cure.)

**6\. Protect Your Family**

There were many things about planet Earth that snatched Starscream’s attention, and he discovered more every day. Currently, he was extremely dazzled by the tears in Kris's eyes as he was once again in grave danger of deactivation.

“We meet again, Starscream.” Megatron's gravelly taunting seared through his damaged audials. Somewhere next to the ridiculous throne lay one of his arms, and was that a leg sprawled beside the fallen Cliffjumper? The seeker couldn't tell. A haze has nestled deep inside his processor and stunted any straight lines of thought. “And here I'd hoped you were dead.”

“Please! Don't hurt him,” Kris wailed from her prison in Soundwave's servo. “You'll kill him!”

Red optics bored into his own and out the back of his helm, then turned to his human. “That, my dear, is the goal. Unless,” he paused, his glare flashing into something more feral, “you tell me the whereabouts of your new base.”

Dread curled in Starscream's cybernetic innards. He knew her too well. He had to stop her, or she'd crack.

“K-Kry...s-stalle… d-don't.” Clawed digits tightened around his fragile neck cables, cutting off energon flow and crushing his tubes. “Agh… don't.”

“Star…”

“Tick tock, tick tock, little human. You have the power to save your guardian from a most brutal, _ painful _ deactivation. All you need to do, is give me the location of your Autobot friends, and we will allow Starscream to return to his previous rank. You, too, will be granted asylum, and when the Decepticons overpower this planet, you and that half-breed brat will be spared.

“Imagine it! A life among one of the greatest races of the universe,” Megatron swung his hands to the sky, hefting the seeker by the throat into the air. “Your little family could be _ royalty!” _

Starscream watched as Kris chewed her lower lip, and once again admired the glimmer of wet brown eyes. No amount of wealth or prestige could sway her, he knew. But to spare his life? Krystalle would do anything. He tried one more time to dissuade her.

“What's m-more-- ACK-- impor… tant?”

_ “Enough!” _ The hulking Decepticon hurled Starscream across the tower, far from both himself and the frightened human. Darkness crept in from all sides as his systems began to shut down in an attempt to preserve energon. Sparks jumped from the stump that once was a missile launcher as the injured seeker lifted up.

_ Oh. _

Soundwave had moved to stand before Megatron, Kris still in hand. A thick claw posed at her throat.

_ “Tell. Me.” _

And then, Starscream's spark truly _ did _ stop for a single human breath.

Krystalle wiggled a tiny box with a single red button out from her hoodie sleeve. She looked the leader right in the optic and spat at him.

“Eat shit.”

And then there was only fire and light.

**7\. Admit You're In Love**

Once again, Starscream had cheated death. With icy coolant clinging to his frame, he bolted up from his berth certain he'd be nothing more than a one-limbed creature attached to spark support. Once his vents had cleared and cycled enough cool air through him to halt his cooling sequences, he realized…

It had just been a dream.

That fact did little to ease his anxiety. Without a backward glance, Starscream left his suddenly awake and confused “roommates” (the scout, the obnoxious Elite Guard member, and the overbearing Commander), who had startled at his movements, weapons online and aimed in all directions. In less than ten seconds, he’d exited the hangar and opened a groundbridge in Hangar E. Before he could take one step into it, however, he was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder plating. Red optics, wide and nearly _ feral _, met stern blue ones in the darkness.

Prime.

“What is happening, Starscream? What is the meaning of thi--”

“KRYSTALLE!” Panic glitched his vocal programming, and his voice fritzed in and out as he wailed. “I-- she-- Megatron had her! She was in pain and-and-and I need to be sure! I need-- she-- I NEED HER! PRIME LET ME GO I NEED TO MAKE SURE--”

“Starscream.” No amount of force or compassion in the Prime’s voice could halt the rapid pounding of his spark. Not when the love of his life was living away from him, in an undisclosed base of some sort with Fowler and the other Autobot humans. No protection of their Cybertronian guardians, no internet access, the only way to get to her being the groundbridge that had just closed--

“Please,” he begged. Begged. How he had suddenly ended up on his knees, he couldn’t say, but now he begged to be near her. Somehow knowing it had been a mere recharge cycle glitch -- a nightmare -- did nothing. His greatest fear had played out before his processor’s optics; Megatron having Krystalle at his mercy, manipulating her, the Autobots -- his _ team _\-- slaughtered while he was spared, only to watch as the most wonderful creature in all the universe had to choose between his sorry spark and her own people. Her family. Their family.

Fear could never describe what he felt upon waking.

“Please… I love her.”

Somewhere, distantly, Starscream’s audials picked up the wretched medic’s vocalizer mutter “Finally” under a vent.

**8\. Now You Have an Organic Girlfriend**

“Ay Starbucks?” Kris, of course, swung her legs from her perch at the edge of the cliffside. High above the ground, she no longer held any fear of falling. “Dude, pay attention to me asshole.”

“Can you not see I’m busy?” Primus only knew why he had agreed to bring this demonic child home from that _ damned _ plague ship and agree to the _ terrible _ human name she’d chosen, but here he was. Trying to feed _ Mason _his warm filtered energon.

Mason wanted his mother, not his energon. He was quite vocal about it too.

“Starscream, you gotta hold his head.”

“I’m trying but the tiny thing won’t keep still--”

“Here, let me--”

“What!? You’re only six human feet and two inches tall! Go get the Apex Armor if you insist on--”

“WAHHHH--”

“Oh Jesus, Mason! Don’t just do that!”

“Did you see that, Kris!? He nearly fragging jumped out of my servos!”

“He probably just heard my voice and realized I’m right here. Let me just go get the-- MASON NO!”

The tiny sparkling leapt out of Starscream’s arms and right to the red rocky ground, just a few feet from a two-hundred and fifty foot drop. Kris just blinked and then narrowed her eyes at their sparkling.

“You little shit. What’d you think I was gonna do, catch you? You got like three feet on me, Mason.” Nonetheless, Kris sidled up to the child, making sweet cooing noises that set his cooling fans off lightly.

Primus take his spark and smear it over the cosmos. At least that would be more painless than trying to broach the subject of _ togetherness _with Krystalle. Of course, he supposed the fact she often looks at him pointedly when mentioning Mason’s father -- Sire, he’d correct her -- and joked about proposal might mean she thought about the same thing. Togetherness.

_ How does one bond with a being with no spark? _

“Tilt the bottle thingie more, he’s sucking air.” On automatic, Starscream shifted the sparkling cube in his digits, sending energon into Mason’s mouth. Er, intake. “Nice. You know, you’re not bad dad material, Star.”

“And you’re not bad carrier material, Krystalle. For a human,” he couldn’t help but add. The reaction was worth it.

And entirely not what he expected.

“Oh yeah? Wanna make it official then?” _ Primus that smile, that smirk, it’s a smirk, is she joking? Is she serious, could she really mean…? _

“Official?” _ Primus why did I say that!? Stupid, stupid, stupid-- _

“Uh, yeah? I mean, we’re practically married anyhow. We have a kid together, we go out a lot, you found me those gorgeous rocks--”

“Crystals.”

“Right, right. And I like to bring you to that old beach where I used to live and go swimming. So like,” she paused to push his servo away from Mason, who unlatched from the sparkling cube and burped in delight. Starscream distantly admitted the child was adorable, but only within his internal processes. “Are we a couple to you?”

Starscream gathered Mason (_ Mason Thundercracker Jones, _ he thought. _ A part of him and a part of her) _in one arm and held his free servo out for Kris to step onto. Once aboard, he looked deeply into her beautiful eyes and smiled. Just smiled.

“I’ve hoped we might be for some time, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I. Have been writing this hoe ass bitch. For TWO. YEARS. So long ago that when I started it, I still ID'd as female. That's a while ago dudes. She's a dummy but she's here and she's posted, and she's been read over by none other than THEE most fabulous SolainRhyo so OBVI my life is all coming together.
> 
> Who remembers when I only wrote and updated when I felt sad? Boy we've come a long way. This one's for SolainRhyo, saveatruckrideoptimusprime, SS_Shitstorm, and GeminiWishes, the four peeps who been cheering on this fic since I had the idea, and through each step of it. Beginning, middle, and end.
> 
> I love this baby ass fic, She's a hoe but I love her.
> 
> Much love, stay beautiful and handsome,
> 
> \-- Dipsfryrevswagnuslishe (the amalgamation of all my names)


End file.
